‘I never thought I’d see the day that our Jeremy was on the news,’ Bridie said.

‘We’ll get him back, Ma, I promise you. We will.’ Maisie was adamant and Bridie seemed to relax.

As she had sat in Fred’s car, watching men search for her son’s dead body, Maisie had reached a big decision: she would be positive. He’s not in there. He’s so not in there. In fact, if that reservoir was the last place left to be on earth he’d be on Jupiter. A mother knows. It didn’t matter that her skin crawled, her stomach twisted and her heart ached. It didn’t matter that every inch of her screamed, ‘Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no,’ over and over. None of that mattered because they hadn’t found any bodies: the boys weren’t in that lake. She was determined to wear a smile and whistle a happy tune – despite the deep dread that spread like an infection from her mind into her heart and the very pit of her stomach – because no news was good news. She decided to choose hope. Maisie was good at making decisions like that. When she had been a battered wife, she had decided to cope, to stand tall, to endure, to protect her children, to carry on regardless and, despite all the odds, that was exactly what she’d done. So, sitting in the front seat of Fred’s car, she had decided that everything was going to work out. That was Maisie’s decision and it was final.

‘Does anyone else want another slice before that big lump eats all the pizza?’ Bridie said, pointing to Fred, who was angling a large slice to fit into his mouth.

Valerie laughed.

‘That’s Fred, Ma,’ Maisie remonstrated, ‘and he’s far from a big lump. He’s helping us to find Jeremy so please have some respect.’

‘Well, there’s a cheek in me own house. I didn’t see that comin’, Lynn,’ Bridie said.

Maisie sighed and shook her head. She wasn’t in the frame of mind for Bridie’s bad behaviour.

‘Eat your pizza, Bridie,’ Lynn said.

‘You’re all snotty tonight!’

Lynn raised a finger. ‘Enough.’

Bridie bit her lip and sat back in her chair. ‘My house,’ she mumbled. ‘Bought and paid for, thank you very much.’

Fred was quiet, and Maisie was worried about him. I know I’ve been off with you, and I know you’re doing your best. If only you hadn’t asked me out. If only we hadn’t slept together. Maybe then I could look myself in the mirror without wanting to punch myself in the face. It’s all my fault but I’m trying, Fred. I really am.